


The Ghost

by Cappyforever



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cappyforever/pseuds/Cappyforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Clara facing some alien in a castle. Mystery, Romance, Sex, Sex and Sex</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“What about a ghost?”  
“What about it?”  
The Doctor looked at Clara through the central column of the Tardis, moving some levers, fiddling with some buttons, a hint of mischief in the eye, a little smile playing on his features.  
“I don’t know, I was thinking that it would be appropriate, giving that technically is still Christmas, going hunting for a ghost.”  
“You didn’t believe Robin Hood was real, and now you’re trying to convince me that you can show me a ghost?”  
Clara was smiling from ear to ear, comfortable in the leather chair where she had settled after changing in something more suitable to travel, instead of her nightgown and slippers.

The Doctor was looking at her, thinking that the nightgown had not been so bad a choice after all, but the miniskirt was perhaps even better. For the running of course. More freedom, more legs movements, more… He abruptly returned his eyes to her face.  
“Ah… yes. Well there’s actually a ghost in the Castle of Rhum Island: he’s been there for almost a hundred year I believe”  
“No way!” she straighten to attention, the smile widening.  
He moved from the console to the chair where Clara was seated and crunched in front of her, telling his story and moving madly his hands to emphasize every bit of it.

“They say (they being the few people who live on Rhum Island, a very small Island off the continent of Terim on the planet of Belg (it’s not that far away, we will be there in a few minutes)) they say that the owner of the Castle, he was some sort of Lord you know, wanted another wing to be built on the east side, but he wanted every man working for him to be dressed in the old costume of the Island, to have a more intense experience, you see… if you ask me, he was simply trying to lure some young boy in his bed, the old robes were merely a colourful clothed draped around the hips, but anyway, he was successful in finding workers in need enough to humour him and so he employed some fifty men and began giving orders and guiding the constructions. But!”  
Clara was mesmerized by his speech and his infectious enthusiasm, and followed him when he abruptly sprang up to return to the console to adjust some parts and looking in the monitor for reference.  
“But…?”  
He leaned above her, lowering his voice  
“But one night, one of the boys from the village was working late, to finish off some drawing he was composing on a far wall, the wall of the master room, and he was dangerously trying to reach for a high corner, not realizing that the scaffolding was loose… He fell, from thirty five feet to the ground. Swapt!”  
Clara jumped in surprise while the Doctor mimicked the fall.  
“and now he is a ghost?”  
“No”  
“I don’t understand”  
“Well, it turned out that the Lord was the father’s boy, but he didn’t know it, because the mother never told, but the boy knew the truth and purposefully asked for the job, to give his father a masterpiece of art: the boy had a real talent, you can say he was some sort of Leonardo of Belg”  
“Are you serious or are you telling me some space soap opera?”  
Clara eyed the Doctor suspiciously, crossing her arms in disbelieve.  
The Doctor glared at her, mocking a serious offence, and went on with an hand on his hearts:  
“Clara! I would never pull your leg in so a serious matter!”  
“mmfph. Go on then”

“Well…” he resumed, touching levers and button, looking at her sideways “the mother crying her eyes out, confessed all the story to the Lord”  
The Doctor sighed  
“and the Lord was so heart sickened that he no longer wanted to live. The boy was his only child, and although he never had the possibility to know him, he was very much affected by his gift. The only thing remaining was the beautiful painting in the master room. So he killed himself, leaping from the same spot in which his son slipped.”

Clara eyes went wide “Oh… So HE is the ghost”  
“No”  
“Doctor!”  
“If you continue to interrupt me…”  
“You are impossible! Who’s the ghost?”  
“Well, the mother of course”  
“The mother? She killed herself too?”  
“No, she died of old age, but after spending all of her life trying to finish up the painting of her son. The work was only half made when the young boy met his death, but it was so utterly beautiful that she wanted to complete it, like a tribute for both of her men. It was quite a task and she failed to accomplish it, because for every brush she gave, twice she cancelled or remade. She was never satisfied with her work, she found always something wrong with the light, or the shadows, or the feeling of it, even if it was only her grief really…”

There was a pause and the Tardis landed with a soft thud, like she was listening too to the sad story and didn’t want to intrude.  
Clara looked the Doctor with a sad expression:  
“Why is she a ghost now?”  
“Because her work was never finished, and she can’t rest in peace as long as the painting is not complete in all its beauty”  
“And do you believe it? I mean, the story is beautiful, but do you really believe there is an actual ghost in the Castle?”  
“I don’t know. But one thing is certain: I aimed for the Tardis to land inside the Castle, and we are instead on a nearby hill. Look at the readings: there’s a forcefield surrounding the main structure that is preventing us from materializing inside it. Perhaps it is the ghost… perhaps it’s not”  
He looked at her grinning  
“Care to take a look?”  
and with that he grabbed her hand, like his old self was so used to do all the time, and run for the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They were on a hill, just like the Doctor had said, and they could look down to a little valley kissed by a bright orange sun. The grass was tall and waving in the gentle breeze, creating patterns of different shades of blue, and at the bottom of the path there was the castle. What remained of it anyway.  
It was a huge building, spread over six thousand square feet and aiming for the sky with turrets, battlements and a drawbridge resting on an almost dry moat. It seemed like some sort of fairy tale castle, lacking only of the prince and princess on a white horse, riding through the land.  
On a closer look Clara could see that the stained glasses of the tall windows were shattered in more than one place, several bricks were broken or missing altogether, some walls were crumbled to debris. And the general look of the place was disheveled and deserted.  
There was no one in sight.  
“Doctor… is there someone living on the island?”  
“Mmmhh… not that I know. Some caretaker comes from the continent every now and then, but I think the place is quite left to itself. The Belgan are a very superstitious kind of people”  
“So it may be the perfect hiding place for someone who wants to live alone and undisturbed” Clara smiled knowingly  
“Don’t go all Scully on me!” The Doctor winked in reply “it seems we have to walk some distance to reach the castle, so let’s go: it’s a beautiful sunny afternoon, we can have some fun and take a look at the little wild life while we are at it”

It was pouring rain like all the clouds of the planet had decided to unleash water at the same time in the same spot. The spot being right above Clara and the Doctor’s heads. Forgetting every interest in whatever bees and rabbits may have lived in the valley, they were running toward the castle, and when they finally arrived to take shelter under the colonnade they were utterly drenched.  
“Blimey, and I thought that England had a bad weather!” Clara was shivering, her hair plastered to her face “Please tell me the door isn’t locked…”  
“Well, even if it is locked… “ the Doctor grinned and the screwdriver whirred obediently. In a few seconds the metal latch went tlang and the heavy door gave way into a dark lobby. With a sinister screech.  
Clara looked at the Doctor and the Doctor looked back: neither of them said a word, but their faces spoke volumes.  
“Ghost castle here we are coming…”  
And with that Clara stepped inside.

Clara didn’t know what to expect, but surely she didn’t expect to find a piano just in the middle of the entry. Or what looked like a piano, or some sort of musical instrument anyway. The lobby was poorly illuminated, the only light was that coming from the door they had just opened, so the furniture came slowly to life, as soon as their eyes adjusted to the dusk.  
Under the piano was a wonderful rug, and behind it a large stone stairway that lead to an open balcony that looked down on the room they were in.  
All around the walls were several trophies and pictures and paintings and statues and vases and lots and lots of beautiful art objects, that gave the impressions that the castle was all but deserted.  
Everything was neat, polished even, as if someone was actually living there.  
An enormous chandelier was hanging from the high ceiling, and after some buzzing with the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor was finally able to bring some light to the room.  
“Well… this is peculiar”  
“Peculiar indeed Doctor. My hair is on stand!”  
“That’s because you are cold from the rain outside. We must find something to dry ourself”  
Clara mphfs to the Doctor, rolling her eyes.  
“I mean the castle doesn’t seem abandoned at all. It seems very much lived in!”  
“Yes, you may be right, but if someone was living here he would have come and greeted us by now, don’t you think?”  
“Maybe they’re outside”  
“It’s raining cats and dogs”  
“Maybe they’re coming back”  
“Well, we will know soon enough. Now. What about some towels and dry clothes?”  
“Do you think we can wander around and help ourself?”  
“I don’t see why not. If the castle is indeed deserted no one will complain. If it is inhabited, Belgan have a reputation for their welcoming traditions: they will take offence if we don’t provide for our needs, even in their absence”  
Clara nodded thoughfuly  
“Well then, I think the bathrooms will be upstairs. I’ll go and take a look.”  
“All right. I will search for the heating… and Clara?”  
“Yes Doctor?”  
Clara was on the first step of the stairs already, stopped and turned around.  
“If you find any ghost painting a wall, just come back to me and don’t utter a word.”  
The Doctor smiled his no big deal grin and stomped away in search of the next technical gadget to sonic to life.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

On the first floor there were several bedrooms, each one with its own bathroom: one was pink, one was blue, one was green… all of them were perfectly clean and fitted, with beautiful linens and important wooden furniture, big mirrors, stuffed chairs, lovely four poster beds.  
Clara peered briefly into everyone, trying to figure out if the castle was indeed inhabited or if it was some sort of enchanted museum perfectly preserved for gullible tourists.  
In the pink room, flowers and ribbons everywhere, she found some fluffy towels and a spare jumpsuit. She dried, stripped from her wet clothes and dressed in the warm pink trousers and shirt. Glancing at herself in the mirror she looked much like a giant lollypop, but she wasn’t due to any social event… besides they fit quite right.  
Thinking that the Doctor probably wouldn’t want to look like a strawberry ice cream, Clara moved to the blue room, all waves and dolphins and stars. Here she found the same kind of jumpsuit she was now wearing, but in a deep blue shade: the jumper looked almost like the hooded one the Doctor always wore when in relax mode, so she thought he would be pleased with her choice.  
She was about to go back down the stairs when she heard something coming from the far end of the corridor, the one with no illumination at all, the one she had deliberately tried to avoid. It was some sort of weeping… A trick from the rain outside maybe?  
Clara remained still, head cocked to one side.  
There it was again. No, no rain could made a sound like that.  
A cat then, surely a little thing caught in the bad weather, that was now complaining for being trapped somewhere.  
Clara moved toward the sound and cautiously opened the door of the last room on the landing, so far down the corridor it surely was situated in the new part of the house, that new wing the owner had wanted to be built. The look and the feel of it was different from the rest of the house.  
The light was very dim, the only illumination was provided by a large but dark window on the left of the room, directly opposite from a big raw wall covered in paintings. The room in itself was bare and the only things present were row upon row of colour cans, brushes, canvas, and everything needed for work.  
The air was cold, and the smell of solvent was so strong that her eyes began to sting, not to mention the uneasy feeling that was steadily growing in her stomach.  
She hoped it was a cat or something.  
She wanted it to be a cat or something.  
She opened the door some more, and sure enough, there it was, that little rascal: shivering under a shelf a flurry ball with round big eyes meawed desperately upon seeing her, then shot through the floor, ducked between her feet and vanished down the hall.  
It moved so fast that Clara had not the time to see it clearly.  
She turned again her attention to the room, now quite and all the more sad, and with a last look and a shivering sigh, closed the door and turned to go looking for the Doctor.  
He was busy sonicing what looked like a huge fireplace in a beautiful room full of bookshelves.  
“You know that you have to use a proper fire to light that thing?”  
Clara entered the library with the arms full of clothes.  
The Doctor turned the head to look at her but continued with his task.  
“It’s not real wood, Clara, it’s some sort of electric device that I hope I can activate… there!”  
“It looks like fire”  
“Yes, it has an holographic image projected on the front”  
“It’s cute”  
“Well, it’s functional. What is all that pink thing wrapping you?”  
“It’s warm, and dry, and it fits, don’t be so judgmental”  
“It’s pink”  
“Yes… Anyway, your’s blue. Here”  
The Doctor took the clothes and the towel, all in the same deep blue and eyed them suspiciously.  
“What is this? Fifty shades of everything?”  
Clara shrugged.  
“I found the room with the painting, it’s upstairs”  
“Really?”  
The Doctor quickly brushed his hair with the towel and tried to dry his clothes to the fire, but they where too wet, there was no other solution than discard them and change.  
“And did you see anything out of the ordinary?”  
He began unbuttoning his white shirt.  
Clara was mesmerized by his long fingers, and was staring while the Doctor moved them fast.  
She answered without really paying too much attention to what she was saying  
“Yes, there was a little animal, a cat thing, flurry and meowing trapped in the room. It escaped when I opened the door.”  
“What?”  
The Doctor stopped suddenly, on the way of finally removing his shirt.  
“What?”  
Answered Clara snapping, and finally focusing her attention on his face.  
“Describe it to me, try to remember what it was like”  
The Doctor took her by the shoulder and look intensely into her eyes.  
Clara was a little bit confused, but replayed without hesitation.  
“Well, it was black, with huge round yellow eyes. Little, like a kitten, and flurry. It looked liked a ball, I didn’t see legs of any kind, and although I heard it meowing I don’t remember having seen any mouth. Pretty harmless though.”  
“And the painting? Did you see the painting?”  
“No, it was too dark and I didn’t want to go inside the room, not without you. That little animal scared me a bit when it shot through the door, so I came down.”  
“You didn’t want to go inside the room? You? Miss curiosity on legs?”  
Clara scolded to him and crossed her arms, but then relented.  
“It was sad… I felt like I was so sad I wanted to cry, and… I don’t know, maybe it was suggestion, but it was as if I didn’t belong there, like I was intruding.”  
The Doctor let her go, and turned toward the fireplace, passing one hand through his hair.  
“What is it Doctor? What do you think?”  
“I don’t know. That animal have a resemblance with something I already saw, but on a total different planet, so maybe it’s nothing. I believe we have to wait till tonight if we want to find something more.”  
And with that he sneezed.  
“Doctor, you have to change your clothes or you will catch a cold.”  
“I’m a Time Lord, I don’t catch colds!”  
“Yes, yes… whatever. Here, undress and dry yourself properly.”  
Clara moved forward, grabbed his shirt and helped him toss it aside. He removed his boots and was about to get on with his trousers too, when he realized what he was doing. He stopped abruptly.  
“Clara, I have to undress.”  
“Yes…?”  
His eyebrows went in attack mode.  
“Can you please turn around?”  
Clara rolled her eyes.  
“I saw you naked before, remember?”  
“Not in this incarnation, no.”  
“It makes no difference.”  
But she reluctantly turned and wandered to explore the bookshelves.  
The Doctor was a little surprised to the last remark but said nothing. The experience they had had with the dream crab aliens was still very vivid inside him, and certainly the things they had said and felt while they were convinced that their life was wasted living apart, had been very upsetting.  
The thought that Clara was in some way trying to flirt with him was equally disturbing, albeit warming his stomach in all the wrong places.  
Once zipped up the jumper, he busied himself arranging his wet clothes in front of the fireplace, to help along the drying, and regaining his composure. He felt strangely exposed without his usual armour, and the though that both he and Clara were in the same casual dresses, comfortable in a beautiful library with the drumming of the rain outside, made him shivering in a strange anticipation.  
Maybe he was imagining things.  
Surely he was imagining things.  
Clara was her old joking self, teasing him without real purpose.  
Was she not?

She was browsing through the books, without paying much attention to what she was looking at. She had almost lost her control, seeing the Doctor half naked and about to undress even more. In all the months during which they had been apart, she had often thought about him, at how much she had loved his previous self and how she had failed to see him properly in this new skin. She had been a fool, because he was the Doctor, no matter the outfit, no matter the hair or the face, or the kidneys: he was always the same alien, the same beautiful alien, glimpses of whom danced behind her eyes like flickers of memory left by her echoes.  
The dream they had shared had been terrifying, but one thing was now clear: she no longer could hide her true feelings, not to him, not to herself.  
She had missed him so much it hurt, and she missed him not only because he had a magic blue box of wonder, but because he was… well, he.  
The Doctor.  
Mad grin, ancient eyes, different wrappings.  
He looked older, so what?  
Was he less fascinating?  
Judging from her reaction to the mere sight of him, certainly not.  
The problem was another altogether: was he interested in her?  
He cared for her, that much was clear, and he wanted to share his adventures with her, but was he looking for something more?  
For a moment, during their dream, she had thought so.  
Maybe she was imagining things.  
Surely she was imagining things.  
She so much wanted her imagination to come true…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

They searched the castle, throughly, peeking in every room, and there were many.  
There was the music room, where they found some sort of enormous barrel organ, that Clara tried to set in motion with little success. Adjacent to the music room there was obviously the ball room, with beautiful tapestry of sinuous figures in alluring postures, all of them intertwined and so vivid as to be ready to leap out of the walls.  
There were two dining rooms, with beautiful wooden tables and some remnants of china. Gold and silver and some other strange metal that the sonic screwdriver refused to acknowledge, all over the place, rich candelabras, samovars and cutlery and every other useful tool.  
Clara tried to open some of the cupboards only to find dust and debris, whereas on the tables and in viewing display there were several pieces in good order.  
This fact, along with other little oddities, picked up the curiosity of the Doctor.  
“It’s like someone wants us to see how this place used to be, and is trying to draw our attention, setting up all of this… dioramas?”  
“I don’t know, it’s certainly weird, but it feels real… as if someone is really using these rooms on a daily basis, except no one is”  
Clara opened another drawer only to find more dust.  
“And how come there’s no dust on the surfaces, but every cravice I open is full of it? Shouldn't it be the other way around?”  
The Doctor was studying a cup of fine bone china, sonicing it till it sang with a vibrant high pitch.  
“Ouch! What are you doing?”  
“Trying to asset if this is a real thing or an hologram, or an hallucination”  
“It sounds real”  
“But if it’s a fiction, also the sound might be a construction”  
“So, what’s the purpose of your trying?”  
“I don’t know! I’m frustrated, so I need to touch things, and fiddle with them, you know…”  
“You can always touch me if you want”  
Clara widened her eyes as never before, and immediately clasped an hand over her mouth.  
She couldn’t believe herself.  
“Stop that thing with the eyes, Clara! One of these days I really need to make some medical scanning on your optical nerve to see what is wrong with you. Maybe is some strained muscle around the orbit, we have to fix that”  
“Did you just heard what I have said?”  
“Yes, I did. And I was trying to change the subject, thank you”  
“I… I’m sorry”  
“No need to be, this place is wierd and there are some psychic remaining attached to it, so our thoughts can be a little scrambled”  
“Psychic remaining? You mean we are under the influence of someone, like the crab aliens?”  
“No, no, don’t worry, nothing like that. But I detected some… tendrils, like… “  
“Like the thoughts that Dumbledore put in the Pensive? Are we seeing the memory of someone who lived here?”  
At the mention of Dumbledore the Doctor made a face, but then grinned and clapped his hands.  
“Clever Clara! Exactly like the Dumbledore tendrils, that’s a very effective analogy, and I can set the sonic screwdriver to search for them in a more effective way if I only put this…”  
He fiddled a bit with the screwdriver and suddenly all around them some translucent web begun to appear.  
Clara gasped and retreated toward the Doctor, trying - without success - to avoid the filaments: she moved through them ad though they didn’t exist. The Doctor tried to touch one of them, but it was like touching a ray of light when you suddenly can see the dust suspended in the air: you can’t interact with the dancing particles.  
“Are these… thoughts, Doctor?”  
“I don’t know Clara. They are fascinating, aren’t they?”  
“Yes, but are they dangerous?”  
“I don’t know that either, but I’m not detecting anything from them, no radiation, no mass, they’re not even absorbing energy. They don’t exist”  
“But you did something with the settings and now we can see them, so are they real or not?”  
“The set up was aimed to detect any kind of outer dimension phenomenon, so I think these… things… are not really here, this may be some sort of shadow, or a projection of something in our space”  
“And you think they are affecting our brain?”  
“Why do you say so?”  
The Doctor turned suddenly toward Clara, eyeing her with apprehension.  
“You said it, just a minute ago. You said our thoughts might be scrambled”  
“Did I said that?”  
“Don’t you remember saying it?”  
The Doctor frowned.  
Clara looked at him intently.  
“This is weird”  
“Doctor, tell me what you remember”  
“I remember you telling me I… could touch you”  
“I told you what?”  
“Well, if you changed your mind…”  
“Doctor, it’s not a matter of changing ones mind, I don’t remember telling anything of the sort, and you don’t remember some part of our conversation either!”  
“Mmmhhh…”  
“Mmmhhh what?”  
“I don’t know, I don’t have sufficient data. And I fear that if we say things that we then forget about, it will be very difficult to collect something useful to build a theory”  
“Can’t you use the sonic screwdriver like some… I don’t know, a recorder or something?”  
The Doctor looked at the sonic, then at Clara, then at the sonic.  
“Clara, have I told you that you are clever?”  
“Yes, more than one time, I remember it very distinctly”  
She gave him a cheeky smile.  
“Oh really?”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They moved throughout the castle searching for the web. It was more dense and more visible only near some objects, confirming the theory that all the things in display were some sort of projection coming from somewhere the Doctor was not yet able to pinpoint.  
They tried some experiment with the recordings too, and they discovered that the memory loss was quicker when they were near some artefact of a more personal character, things that were somehow more personal.  
The room with the painting was a real mess in this regard: the web was much more intense and vivid, the memory loss more random and frequent. Clara forgot most of a long conversation about the creepiness of the place, and blinked in surprise when she found herself clinging to an arm of the Doctor as if in fright: she didn’t even remember what had scared her so much in the first place.  
The Doctor soniced the room, the painting and the cans of colour, but found nothing more: most of the objects where in a transient state, half in our universe, half somewhere else and the drawing itself was a strange medley of energy.  
They preferred to go back to the library to discuss their results, because a simple conversation was becoming harder and harder, with unfinished thoughts and suspended words with no answer to follow.  
When they entered the library they caught sight of a strange phenomenon, surely due to the focusing of the sonic screwdriver aimed to register every strange detail: the room seemed to flicker into existence, but it was so quick a movement that neither of them was quite sure they really saw it.  
“It’s as if the castle is adjusting around us, coming into existence only when we are interacting with something”  
“But do you think nothing of these is real, Doctor? I mean, if I sit on the sofa“ and Clara cautiously sat on the edge of it “I’m sitting on the ground instead but I can’t properly judge it?”  
The Doctor looked at her with intensity  
“No, I think that the sofa, as all the other furniture, is quite real, and you can relax and even have a nap on it”  
“It won’t disappear if I close my eyes or if I’m not conscious?”  
“No, I think not. When we arrived there was a pretty real force field all around the place, preventing us from landing in here with the TARDIS. I think the energy with whom the force field is maintained is coming from somewhere and is building and rebuilding our surroundings”  
The Doctor spun around and looked closely to a little table.  
“For example, I’m quite sure this book on the ancient tales of Rhum was not on this table when we were here an hour ago”  
“How can you tell? We keep forgetting things”  
“Mmmhhh… I remember all the other items in here. And I remember where I put my wet clothes and surely it wasn’t on that chair!”  
Clara gazed at the chair the Doctor was dashing to, very far from the fireplace. She too remembered that the Doctor positioned his clothes near the fire to help them drying.  
“Do you think someone was here, while we were upstairs?”  
“No, Clara. I think the room rearranged itself sensing our needs: the clothes are completely dry now, and for them to be near the fire for more time, it would have meant to be ruined from the heat”  
Clara sat more comfortably on the sofa, gathering her legs under herself.  
“This would explain why I found this jumpsuits so easily” she said.  
“Yes, and I’m pretty sure that if we become hungry the castle will find a way of show us how to cook something”  
Clara stomach rumbled audibly.  
“Why did you have to say that? Now I’m hungry”  
“Well, so we will put my theory to the test”  
The Doctor grinned at Clara, lifting his eyebrows in an alluring way, and moved to a near small glass case.  
He opened it and with a loud “HA!” he retrieved a biscuits box, some cheese and a bowl of fresh fruits.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They ate the fruits that were surprisingly tasty, and drank some water, crouched on the sofa, that they had dragged in front of the fireplace.  
“The castle is acting a little bit like the Tardis, don’t you think Doctor?” asked Clara nibbling at a biscuit.  
“What do you mean?” The Doctor eyed Clara with curiosity.  
“Well, it seems to shift things through different dimensions, it rearrange itself following the needs of its occupants, it provides for them, and it has a source of energy somewhere” Clara shrugged “It seems pretty familiar to me!”  
“Well, yes, if you put it this way…”  
“Come on, it’s a good theory, admit it!”  
The Doctor grinned back to her  
“Yes, is a good theory, but the energy signature is not one I recognize from Gallifrey, the energy web is something completely unknown, the memory loss is weird in a not funny kind of way, and the Tardis, my Tardis, has come up with nothing when I scanned the place, before our landing!”  
Clara chewed some more.  
“The energy web…”  
“What about it?”  
“I don’t know… It reminds me of an holographic projection I saw once in Star Trek”  
“Star Trek is a fiction”  
“I know!” Clara scowled  
“Besides, nothing here is an hologram, all is solid and real: only it seems to stop existing when we are not around”  
“Well, at least I come up with some theory! You are there doing nothing and simply destroying all my brilliant ideas!”  
“I like observing your brain in motion”  
The Doctor smiled fondly.  
“Stop having fun of me!”  
“I’m not! Really, I like it!”  
An awkward silence fell between them, while Clara flushed and smiled embarrassed.  
After some moment the Doctor stopped fiddling with his ring and took the sonic screwdriver from his pocket.  
“Well, let’s see if we have forgotten some of the later conversations”  
He replayed the recordings and both of them stood silent, listening intently to themselves bantering again.  
“It seems ok to me, I remember all of that” said the Doctor.  
“Yes, me too…”  
“What?” he looked at Clara who seemed distracted  
“I was thinking…”  
“Yes…?”  
“What if the ghost is a real person, trapped somewhere, that is trying to send a message?”  
“Like that one time with the lady astronaut?”  
“Yes, something like that”  
“Well, it may be a possibility… We have to wait a couple of hour I guess, till the night will be fully upon us. All the previous testimony said that the ‘ghost’ only came during night time. No one has ever saw it in any other circumstance”  
Clara looked out the window: the rain had stopped and the heavy clouds were parting to show a very red sun moving slowly toward the horizon. It was a beautiful sight, as every sunset on every planet on which she had ever set foot, but tonight, on this particular planet, sitting on a comfortable couch near the Doctor while the fire crackled in front of them, she felt particularly alive.  
It was perhaps the thought that this was their new first adventure together, after so much time spent apart. It was the first of so many more to come, and Clara could not but think of the nightmare the dream crab had put them through, letting them believe that they had lived their lives completely alone, till it was too late.  
The Doctor was again fiddling with the sonic, sitting relaxed next to her. His strong features were warmly illuminated by the fire, his grey curls shining in the changing light and Clara could not stop herself from reach out and put her hand gently on his arm, as if to make sure that he was real and solid. Not a dream. Not a fantasy. A real mad man, with kind eyes and attack eyebrows.  
The Doctor stopped playing with the settings and turned toward her with a questioning look, thinking she might have heard something or thought a new theory.  
But Clara was only smiling.  
“What?”  
“Nothing”  
“You are smiling because…?”  
“Because I’m happy to be with you”  
Clara snuggled against him, taking his arm and wrapping it around herself, embracing him at the same time.  
It was a very bold move on her part, she was perfectly aware of this, and she expected to be hastily moved away. With him fumbling to escape as fast as he could from her touch.  
But the Doctor didn’t flinch.  
He relaxed completely, tightening his grip on her shoulder and kissing her head.  
“I’m happy too”  
He replied, and hugged her even more.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was the perfect setting, the perfect time, the perfect mood.  
They couldn’t help themselves, despite all the insecurities and the the newfound relationship that neither of them could precisely define.  
They leapt.  
With thundering hearts and rushing blood, they decided to put aside all their doubts and dive into one another. Or perhaps it was not a decision, but a simple instinct overcoming their conscious minds.  
Clara lifted her head to look at him, the Doctor bent his head to smile and give a peck on her nose.  
They were so close.  
Their eyes met only briefly and then his lips were on her lips and not on her nose as was initially intended.  
Light at first, like fearing a burn.  
But soon passion took over and the kiss became something more, a wet exploration of one another breath. The Doctor was gentle but firm and demanding, so different from the clumsiness of his previous self. So different from the same himself of some time ago.  
He caressed Clara’s cheek with his long fingers, resting for a while on her neck and listening to her quickened pulse.  
Then he began moving her slowly toward the back of the sofa. He guided her to lie down, pressing with his body, probing with his lips and with his hands.  
Down, down, slowly down, till he was on top of her.  
Clara loosed every shred of control: she was simply feeling, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hands on her face, through her hair, down her neck, creeping up beneath her jumper, touching her bare flash, brushing one of her breast.  
She opened her eyes and all she could see was his own blue one, looking back at her with lust and longing.  
For once, just for once, neither of them spoke: no bickering, no questions, no jokes: only the naked truth that they could see in each other gaze.  
I have waited so long for this thing to happen, now you’re mine and I’m yours. I want you all, without restrain.  
They met for another deep kiss, mouths hungry and exited.  
Then it was all a blur of clothes, a ripping of zippers, a kicking of trousers and underwear.  
Licking, biting, caressing all over.  
Flesh on flesh.  
Hands searching for more pleasure: little ones wrapping around, slender ones probing for wetness.  
No words, only sighs and moans loud enough to increase the pleasure.  
Little movements, to tantalize.  
On the edge, ready for more.  
Longing for more.  
Needing more.  
One single thrust, and they froze.  
The heat flushing them both, threatening to engulf them, radiating from their centre toward one another.  
The Doctor rested his forehead on Clara’s one, cupping her face with both his hands, and the universe ceased to exist.  
They were suspended in time and space, floating in a sea of pure pleasure, and finally seeing each other.  
Clara saw and felt the Doctor, the pure essence of him surrounding and embracing her, golden and shining like a prince in a fairytale. At the same time she could see herself in the Doctor’s eyes, white and tall and strong like an angel of fire, capable of anything, mighty and powerful.  
The Doctor saw and felt Clara, the pure essence of her surrounding and embracing him, his impossible woman blazing with fire, and he could see how he looked in her heart.  
Then he began to move and time restored itself.  
Every movement enhanced by their mental bond, every thrust faster and more forceful than the previous.  
They were riding fast, and they were riding high.  
Clara cried coming apart in waves upon waves of undiluted pleasure.  
The Doctor cried with her, with a feral and guttural noise of animal satisfaction.

Unnoticed, the translucent web from another dimension glowed brighter and brighter around them.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Doctor woke up, startled.  
He didn’t remember to have dozed off.  
He was sitting on the sofa, near the fireplace, Clara nestled against him, sleeping.  
He remembered vaguely to have dreamt something involving him and Clara… having sex? Naughty, naughty Doctor, always having inappropriate dreams about his companions.  
Clara stirred and her eyes fluttered open, unable to focus on her surroundings for a brief moment. Then she realized she was on the sofa, near the Doctor and lifted her face to meet his gaze.  
They were embraced, but she didn’t remember why was she fallen asleep, not to mention the fact that she was absolutely certain she had to be naked, but she wasn’t.  
Wait a minute, why was she certain she had to be naked?  
“We slept” The Doctor said.  
“Yes, but…” she unwrapped herself from him.  
“What? Why are you frowning?”  
“I don’t know, Doctor, I seem to remember something weird”  
“A dream?”  
“Was it a dream?”  
They look intensely to each other, and Clara blushed furiously, not knowing why: “Wait! Did you had the same dream too?”  
To her surprise, the Doctor blushed too.  
“I don’t know, what kind of dream are we talking about?”  
“This place, Doctor, is affecting our memories. Is it inducing some sort of hallucination too?”  
“That’s perfectly possible, but I don’t understand why”  
He searched for his sonic, but it was not in the pocket he was sure he had put it. After two failed attempts to reach for it, he looked down and realized that his trousers were inside out.  
Clara, who had followed his movements realized the same thing at the same time.  
“We were naked!”  
She blurted out.  
“And we’ve been dressed again, but not in the exact order” commented the Doctor.  
They looked at each other, realizing that it has not been an hallucination, that what they remembered was real, it happened for real.  
“Clara…” the Doctor cupped her face with his hand in an attempt to be reassuring, but lost himself in her eyes instead. He stroked his thumb against her cheek and leaned against her, placing a soft kiss on her lips.  
She relaxed in his touch, and kissed him back, her heart pounding inside her chest, just like the first time.  
“Clara, I think there’s something we have to do” he managed to say.  
“Oh Doctor, yes, please, I want you so much”  
“No… I mean yes, I want to make love to you, but I think we have to record it this time”  
Clara was kissing his neck, climbing into his lap all the while trying to get rid of his jumper. She froze, grinding against him, her hands in his curls.  
“What?”  
He squeezed her bottom, and moved against her trying to have more friction between her legs, but Clara pulled slightly at his hair. “Doctor, what have you just said? Recording what?”  
He reopened his eyes and tried to focus on what she was saying, remembering his idea.  
“Yes, we have to record what we are doing, because I have the feeling that it will happen again, and again, and we will wake up confused and driven by lust, and we have to understand why and how…” his voice was low and raspy, his Scottish accent all the more gorgeous.  
Clara listened to what he was saying not really understanding it, because his voice was doing things to her groin, and the only action that made completely sense was kissing him open mouthed, pressing her body against his.  
He reacted immediately tightening his grip on her, his hands caressing her back, his fingers lingering on the hem of her trousers, darting underneath them, kissing and devouring her with the same passion.  
“Oh, Clara…”  
She had successfully managed to open his jumper and was now caressing his thin chest, all the while kissing the hollow of his long neck. She brushed her fingertips onto his nipples and the immediate reaction was a low moan escaping from his mouth. The sensual overload was driving him mad, but he regained a little control with great effort and managed to set up the sonic screwdriver in the right recording mode, disregarding it immediately afterward: it was his turn to get rid of her dress and bury his nose between the mould of her breasts, so full and so firm.  
They were like silk against the callous of his hands and the perfume they had was filling his nostrils like the purest of fragrance. Clara’s fragrance. Au’de Clara.  
The link between their mind was louder and stronger this time, a path already established. So she smelled herself like he was smelling her; he was bewildered and shocked at how sensuous a feeling his own hair were raising in her.  
He felt how wet he was, she felt how hard she was.  
Images began forming in each other minds: ‘I want to lick your folds…’ ‘I want to take you into my mouth…’ ‘I want to come into you…’ ‘I wanna drink you…’ ‘I wanna clench around you…’ ‘I want to fill you…’ ‘I wanna feel you…’  
“I love you” few words in english, a convolute image in gallifreyan, the same blood rushing wild, three hearts beating fast: she was riding him, he was pounding into her, screaming their lust with no refrain, their orgasm hitting them both hard and long and tenfold higher.  
He clenched around her, she spilled herself into him.  
“Doctor…”  
They returned to themselves, slowly, savouring the last remaining of pleasure that still ran through their bodies. They were on the sofa, the Doctor sitting on it, Clara sitting on the Doctor. He twitched and moved slowly underneath her, she clenched her inner walls one more time, sucking him in and not letting go.  
“Please, I want to have you inside me forever”  
“Clara, I don’t have any better place to be”  
They sighted into each other arms, hugged and rested.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Clara woke up, a contended smile on her lips.  
She stretched her arms and almost purred like a cat.  
She had a dream, a very vivid one, a dream in which she and the Doctor had...  
She opened her eyes and looked around trying to understand where she was.  
She was on the couch, near the fireplace, in the ghost castle: that much was granted.  
But where was the Doctor?  
She raised herself in a sitting position, some of her muscles protesting.  
“How are you feeling?”  
The Doctor was sitting on the floor embracing his legs, on the other side of the room, the sonic screwdriver in his hand, like some sort of magic wand.  
Clara smiled widely “Actually I’m feeling great!”  
“Any strange dream?”  
“arhmmm... yes, I think?”  
“About what?”  
Clara blushed, not completely sure why. She tried to remember the dream, and suddenly she reddened even more, because the dream was a very wet one, involving the Doctor in various positions and very intense orgasmic pleasure.  
“I’m not sure I want to talk about it”  
She smiled at him, only to realize that he was deadly serious.  
“What? Doctor, what happened? Are you all right?”  
“Yes, I’m all right, albeit a little tired”  
“You didn’t sleep then?”  
“Oh, yes I slept. Yes. I woke up just a few minutes before you did”  
He rose, and began pacing the floor.  
“What’s wrong then?”  
“When I woke up I was on the sofa, near you, and I remembered a very odd dream only to find out it was not a dream at all”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I found my sonic on the floor, it was in recording mode”  
Clara looked puzzled.  
“Have we lost our memory again? Did it recorded a conversation of ours?”  
“No, it recorded much more than that”  
“Really? Can I listen?”  
“Well, there’s a video too”  
The Doctor pacing was more and more nervous.  
“A video?”  
“Mmhh -mmhh”  
“Well... can I see it? Or do I have to wait your review?”  
The Doctor settled down on the sofa, but he sprang on his feet again unable to remain still. Then he returned on the other side of the room and sat on the floor, in the same spot he was when Clara woke up.  
“I think it would be better if I just stay here”  
and managed to set the sonic on the right configuration to project the recording.  
“What will I see, Doctor? A two dimensional film, or an hologram? Some sort of Leia-Organa-help-me-Obi-Wan-Kenobi thing?”  
“Hu? Yes”  
“Yes?”  
But she fell immediately silent as soon as the sonic began transmitting the images recorded, because there was no introduction, no explanation, no ciak, it began exactly in mid action, Clara and the Doctor making love, undressing, kissing, touching, sweating and moaning, all in solid 3D and full scale, just as if the two of them had been replicated and were acting in front of themselves.  
Clara, the real one, was looking as if in trance, eyes getting bigger and bigger as the movements became more erratic, the moans more passionate. She was looking at herself and burning for desire all over again.  
The Doctor seemed to shrink in himself, he was rocking back and forth on his spot on the floor, glancing from the registration to Clara, unable to tell if she was angry or upset, or bewildered.  
They came, loud as thunder.  
Clara found herself flushed and with her mouth dry. She darted a look at the Doctor but couldn't understand what was he thinking.  
The recording proceeded and they saw themselves falling asleep, embraced.  
But immediately they raised and, with their eyes closed, they began dressing themselves with mechanical motions, only to return to the sofa and go to sleep again, in a more comfortable position.  
The Doctor pressed the equivalent of a fast forward button and the images showed him waking up for good, caressing Clara's face and removing a strand of hair from her cheek, getting up from the sofa and finding the sonic on the floor with a puzzled expression.  
He stopped the device and the second Doctor vanished.  
A long silence stretched between the two.  
Clara sat with her back straight, her eyes cast down, her face red and breathing fast.  
The Doctor continued rocking himself in a bad attempt to loosen the tension.  
“I assume that we are not dreaming when we...”  
“No, I think we are well awake”  
“And willing...?”  
Clara raised her eyes and looked directly at the Doctor.  
“I... I don't know” he replied weekly.  
“Would you like us to do... the things we were doing?”  
Clara had to know, because she was burning with desire, and was absolutely sure that she had wanted to do all that she saw, but was afraid the Doctor didn't.  
He swallowed hard, avoided her gaze and answered in a whisper  
“Yes, more than anything”  
Clara closed her eyes and began breathing again.  
“Well then... that make the two of us”  
The Doctor snapped his attention back to her, his eyes glistening.  
“No! Don't move! Don't come near me!”  
He shouted.  
Clara was stepping down the sofa eager to leap into him and hug him, but stopped in mid motion, not understanding.  
“If you come here, we will touch, and we will kiss, and we will start all over again, and then we will loose consciousness and so on. I'm hard as a rock, and all I want right now is rip all the clothes from you and fuck you on the floor, but we have to stay focused. Do you understand?”  
Clara understood all too well: she was feeling as if her inside were burning, and she was sure she was wet and dripping, only to listen to him talking about his erection.  
So she sat again, far from him.  
“Yes Doctor, I feel the same as you, and I understand the need to cut the circle. How many time do you think this has happened?”  
“Don't know”  
He looked outside the window: the sun was dawning, no more rain, no more wind.  
“Maybe we were at it all night?”  
“Do you think it has to do with the loss memory, the energy tendrils and the ghost?”  
“I'm sure of it, but I can only guess... we don't have sufficient data”  
“Guess what?”  
“Well I know of creatures that live on the energy produced from other beings, maybe this is the case, maybe the tendrils feed on sexual energy... I remembered something Jack once told me, some alien he encountered with his team, but in that case the producers of the energy were killed in the process...”  
“Well if we didn't stop we too would have been killed, Doctor”  
He frowned  
“How?”  
“We could have starved to death”  
“Do you think that we could have forgotten to eat?”  
“Well, I'm not hungry even if we probably stayed up all night... spending energy”  
Clara was trying very hard to concentrate and think at the problem at hand, so to distract herself from the sight of the Doctor with is hair in disarray and his hands flying around while he was explaining.  
He was reflecting.  
“I don't know Clara, I never heard of anyone who have died here on the island. This is quite a secret touristic place, I mean, the story of the ghost is famous and even if the Belgan surely will deny it, many people come here with the hope of an adventure”  
“So, if people began disappearing you think that it would be known?”  
“Yes, I think so”  
They remained in silence for some time.  
“The story of the ghost must be a bait” said Clara.  
The Doctor looked at her: “What do you mean?”  
“You said that this is a place for an adventure, so what better than a sad love story to lure here young couple in love, eager to spend a night together in a place full of mystery? Think of it, it's perfect: the rain pouring from nowhere, the fire and the furniture seemingly new, the clothes so easy to find, the atmosphere... all is set for romance and you said that the Tardis located an energy field all around the place, probably to help build all of this”  
The Doctor pondered this new piece of information and nodded.  
“You maybe right Clara. In this case we can leave the house in any moment and return to the Tardis”  
“Why have I the impression that it will not be so easy, Doctor?”  
“Don't know, but I agree”  
They looked at each other from across the room.  
“Let's give it a try. Pick up your clothes, Clara, and move toward the entrance”  
They collected their things and began moving, Clara some steps before the Doctor.  
But suddenly the energy tendrils, invisible until then if not for the special settings of the sonic, began glowing in a sinister way, almost condensing in front of the door.  
“Clara, stop! Move behind me, stay away and don't touch them”  
Clara did as she was told, while the Doctor cautiously tried to grab some readings trough his sonic device.  
He fiddled with some settings and the tendrils began to sparkle, without bulging though.  
“It seems we are trapped”  
The Doctor changed again the settings and pointed the sonic screwdriver toward the window, than again he pointed it at the tendrils: a low hum began to spread trough the room, transforming into the crackle of statics, and then, as the Doctor fined the tune, it began to sound like voices.  
“I am the Doctor. This is Clara. State your intentions”  
“We know who you are. We saw you. We eat you. We flourished in you”  
“Yes, yes, without our permission though. But I can dismiss this despicable behaviour, provided you now let us go. We fed you. Now is over”  
“No. You must remain. You are not as the others. You are better”  
“Why?”  
“Because you feed more”  
“How”  
“Because of the minds”  
The Doctor turned to Clara, lifted one eyebrow, nodded and spoke again.  
“The minds will not be used anymore. Clara is not of my kind. She will soon die, and if we use the minds again, she will die faster”  
“You must remain and feed us. If she dies you will continue with the mind”  
“If she dies I will not continue, not with my mind, not with anything else”  
“We need the energy”  
“You can have it, the same way you always had it, calm and slow”  
“You will feed us”  
The Doctor scuffed.  
“Listen, this is not something you can force me – or anybody else – to do. If it was so, you would not be here, trapped on this planet. Let us go, and I can give you a burst of different energy from the Tardis, that will last you a little bit longer”  
“We can force you”  
“No, you can't”  
A blast of energy shoot out from the dense tendrils and crept toward Clara, who was taken by surprise e cried in pain.  
“No! Stop it!” the Doctor shouted.  
“You will feed us, or we will damage her”  
“Stop it! Stop it!”  
The energy subsided and Clara slumped to the floor.  
The Doctor went to pick her up, and to ascertain that she was all right.  
“Clara, Clara, can you hear me?”  
She beat her eyelids trying to focus.  
“Yes, yes I'm ok. Only a little shaken”  
He turned angrily toward the aliens.  
“You are a very very stupid creature! You feed on serotonin, how can you only think that threatening us will increase your cropping, uh? Do you really think that we will be of any use if we are afraid, or in pain? It doesn't work like that!”  
“How does it work?”  
The Doctor helped Clara to regain her feet.  
“You will leave us be. Love is only on our own free will, every other form of coercion will only poison your 'food'”  
He moved decidedly to the door.  
“Let us pass. Now!”  
The last sentence was commanding, and serious and Scottish, so very Scottish.  
The Doctor wasn't willing to be stopped, so he kept walking just through the tendrils like they didn't existed and they ceased to exist the moment he touched them, just like that.  
He continued to keep Clara beside him and pushed forward, exiting the castle and not stopping till they arrived to the Tardis.  
They entered the blue box and only when they were safe and sound twirling in the vortex they dared to look at each other again.  
“Sooooo... it worked”  
Clara smiled.  
“Yes, it did”  
The Doctor smiled back, watching her sideways.  
“Do you think they will be dangerous to other people?”  
“No, I think no one could ever give them the same things we did. No more Time Lord in the galaxy, do you remember?”  
Clara nodded and the smile turned a bit sad.  
“Back there, you said that I will die soon, and that if we keep doing it joining our minds, I will die sooner”  
She looked at him a little afraid.  
“You will die soon compared to me, Clara. That's sadly true. The other one was an utter lie. Our minds are linked and nothing bad can come from it”  
He smiled reassuringly.  
Clara nodded and swirled round the console, approaching him like in a dance.  
“So, do you think we can resume our... activities? Will it be safe here?”  
“No, I don't think it will be safe here.”  
He chuckled at the face she made.  
“I think we should go to my bedroom or yours: too much levers in here. We don't want the Tardis to fly randomly, do we?”


End file.
